


Wild Dogs

by umhello



Category: Red Dead Redemption (Video Games)
Genre: Animal Death, Blood, Chapter 2: Horseshoe Overlook (Red Dead Redemption 2), Established Relationship, Fluff, High Honor Arthur Morgan, Kissing, M/M, NSFW very briefly mentioned, extremely soft, this is way too soft and happy than it should be but they deserve it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-28
Updated: 2019-03-28
Packaged: 2019-12-25 13:41:17
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,194
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18262451
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/umhello/pseuds/umhello
Summary: a different version of Arthur and Charles's buffalo hunting trip





	Wild Dogs

**Author's Note:**

> This story is based off of "Wild Dogs" a song by Colter Wall
> 
> If you haven't heard Colter Wall I highly suggest you listen. He has created some of the most beautiful and breathtaking songs I have ever heard. I watched Dances With Wolves for the first time in soooo long so that also gave me some inspiration
> 
> A sequel to Habits (My John/Arthur fic) will be coming but I want to do a couple one shots first :)

Salt. Arthur tasted salt. He reached up, wiping a couple beads of sweat from his brow, lifting his head, peering from under his hat brim at the man on horseback a few paces from him 

“Charles, I ain’t seen any buffalo tracks yet” 

“Patience, Arthur” 

The steady sway of his horse. The dull aching of his thighs. The hot sun that hung high in the sky. 

_Scorching. Burning. Merciless_.

It had been a long ride to the empty grass fields near Emerald Ranch and back to the plains of The Heartlands. Charles insisting on taking their time. Track the buffalo _slowly_. Enjoy some fresh air away from their stuffy camp at Horseshoe Overlook. It was peaceful, except for the relentless beating the sun was giving them. Salt gathering under the blanket of Taima’s saddle. Arthur could see the gleam on her flanks from his seat on his own mount. 

He dropped his head back down, staring at the dirt to his right, his hat shielding his eyes once more.

Arthur had listened. _Really listened_. When Charles told him about the importance of the Bison. Explained each and every use his tribe would have for it. Coarse hair used for rope, paunch used for meat wrappings, horns used for arrow point. Arthur absorbed it all, amazed and awe-struck. Charles long since earned his respect. But the way he talked so passionately, his voice remaining serious, a deep note, a lullaby to Arthur’s ears, a soft pull at the corner of his lip, his eyes sparking, a fire igniting in them as he spoke. He had never seen anything like it. Wanted to see it _again and again and again_.

 _Forever_.

Reaching the edge of a plateau, they stopped. Charles shifting in Taima’s saddle, readjusting.

“Look. Down there.”

A herd. Magnificent creatures peppered along in the wheat and prairie dropseed, down in the valley of the heartlands, hidden away from the nuisance of the greedy men of this country.

_The center of all life_

“We only need to kill one. I’ll keep them ringed in. You see if you can bring one down. Okay? Clean as you can”

“Okay”

They cut through the prairie like some unholy blade. 

_Racing_.

Heaving rib cages between their legs, determination dead set in their gaze. Down into the valley, towards the herd, hooves _thundering_. rhythmically against the hard aridisol ground, dust and sand whipping and clouding behind them 

The herd took flight at the sight of the two riders. Grunts and snores warned the others of the arrival of the two. Bison rose to their feet, taking off across the vast plains. Charles flanked them, Arthur riding along the other side. He pulled his rifle from his shoulder, cocking it. 

He let go of the reins, squeezing his legs tight. His mare charging along with the herd.

_Racing. Racing. Racing._

His heart hammered in his ears, distant shouts from Charles, reigning the herd in. He took aim, zeroed in on a healthy bull. Blood flowing. Adrenaline coursing through his veins. Burning. 

_One. Two._

_Unforgiving bullets_

The great bison stumbled, kicked up more dust on his way down. Collapsing in a heap on the hot sand. 

Arthur’s chest was heaving with the adrenaline as he came down from the high of the hunt. His heart returning to it’s metronome tempo. 

“Well done, Arthur”

_His voice. The praise._

A good job.

It left Arthur dizzy all over again even at a few simple words. Charles’s approval meant everything to him. He strived to hear it. Hear the strained baritone rumble of his name, Charles burried deep inside of him, connected to each other. _Bonded_. Whispering praise after praise in his ear. Telling him how good he feels. How well behaved he is for Charles. How beautiful. _Tight. Perfect._ longed for the adulation. _Needed it_. Even the quiet whispers shared just between the two, Charles comforting him after a long hard day of plan after plan, running around being an errand boy. Charles was there, wrapping him in strong, muscular arms, kissing praise and adoration into his skin until it was the only thing he knew. 

He was joined beside their kill, warmth radiating from the body beside him, contrast to the cooling body of the magnificent creature that fell before them. 

They worked silently, in unison. Worked as _one_. Skinning the bison gingerly, delicately even. Large hands carded through the course dark hair, felt the softer curls on the bison’s neck, fingertips tingling at the feeling. 

Bloodied hands glided over each others. Charles wrapping his hand around Arthur’s wrist, bringing it to his lips. Index finger and middle finger resting against Charles’s dark, plump bottom lip, smearing crimson in his shakiness. His free hand came up to Arthur’s own, thumb pad against his lips, feeling the sharp intake of breath. They kept eye contact, staring heated and longing into each other's eyes. Sharing hundreds of wordless emotions, vows, and confessions between them. A fire raging in their eyes. _Scorching. Dizzying. Too much._

Charles parted his lips, tasting copper on his tongue, sweat. _Arthur. The bison. Them._ The stag’s eyes fluttered closed, quivering. Unable to hold his stare any longer. Feeling the weight of it’s meaning settle heady and warm in his chest. Sucking Charles’s thumb into his mouth, his senses flooding with the taste. Getting drunk off of it. 

 

_It was the first blood that we tasted together_

 

Lips collided with Charles’ unexpectedly, a soft gasp leaving his lips. His heart flooding with pure love, obsession. _Need_ for this man. A warm tongue lapped at his bottom lip, suckling, tasting warm iron and salt, cleaning up the smeared mess. 

They parted, foreheads resting against one another, breaths mingling between them. An invisible string tied to their hearts, connecting them. Pulling them closer and closer. They were lost in eachother, melded together as one. Never to be seperated. 

The rest of the buffalo was slowly taken apart by the two, working under the hot sun. beads of sweat gathering on their foreheads at the effort. Meat was wrapped, bones were stowed in saddle bags with horns and every part of the buffalo they could carry home.

Arthur wiped his brow, leaving a trace of blood. His hat discarded on the saddle horn on his mare. The heat had relented by this time with the coming of sunset in a few hours. Their horses were left to graze in the wheat and roam free where they pleased, saddles removed and set down on a rock along with the buffalo hide and saddle bags stuffed full with the greatest of gifts. 

Charles and Arthur sat side by side in the sweet grass, flanked up against each other. Arthur reached down, messing idly with a wayward string from his old tattered blue shirt, twirling it around his finger until it tingled and went numb, tinted crimson. He unraveled it then, starting the process over. 

The man beside him took interest in his soft desert hair, carding his weathered fingers through it gently, feeling it cascade like a waterfall, delicate and so unlike the worn grooves and scars, a jagged marred one on Charles’s palm. A burn. _A stupid mistake_.

His hands seemed almost unworthy to touch something so beautiful. But the way Arthur leaned into him, eyes fluttering closed, melting into the feeling, told him just this once, he could let himself indulge. 

Arthur was an enigma to him. He saw him as a daisy flower, a strong stag, and even sometimes a fierce bear. The man was mush on the inside, caring, selfless, _soft_. He was stubborn, protective. Cared for everyone and everything with a love so unlike Charles had ever seen before. He was foolish. Acted on impulse more than he should. Driven by animalistic instincts. By Dutch’s teachings. 

A puzzle Charles had the patience to solve. _Wanted_ to solve. To keep. To learn and study. To _be with_. 

Arthur’s hair had grown quite long, shoulder length and messy. Messy but with purpose. Windswept and tousled, curling in some spots from sweat and heat. 

His fingers twirled a long strand behind his ear, slowly working to braid it. Practiced movements and knowing hands weaving honey locks. A thin braid was produced once he had finished. He admired his work for a moment before reaching down to his belt. 

Charles pulled one of the leather straps attached to his intricately beaded knife sheath. He had a few feathers attached to them. Feathers he was given before his mother was taken from him. Each had a meaning and he had earned every single one of them. 

An Owl feather for showing wisdom, the striped tail feather of a Wren for sticking up for others, showing protection towards who he loved most. The gray and splashed white feather of a Dove representing the unconditional love, gentleness, and kindness he possessed in his heart. And one last Hawk feather which he pulled from the bunch. His feathers meant everything to him. They kept him tied to his mother, reminded him of who he was. Helped him keep peace within himself so he may show it to others. 

He reached down, gently taking the string Arthur had been messing with, breaking it away from the hem of his shirt, ignoring the confused and curious grunt from the other man. He took up another small strand of hair

“Be still”

A soft command, gentle but firm. Leaving no room for anything but obedience. 

Arthur sat still, leaning into the feeling and soft touches. Charles braided the strand of his hair carefully, weaving the calamus of the feather in a little ways once he reached the end of his strands. He wrapped the blue string around tightly, holding the two together. He wrapped the thread until it ran out, tying the ends in a small, almost invisible knot to keep it from unraveling. 

He stroked his fingers along the Hawk feather. Brown, white, black, striped and decorated with a few speckles.

_Guardianship. Strength._

Charles’ guardian and a promise that he would be the same to Arthur. He knew the man didn’t know the meaning of the feather but maybe someday he would teach him. Watch his eyes twinkle and cheeks redden with the words. How he would try to deny that he wasn’t worthy of such things. Wasn’t worth the love. The thought felt like an ache in his abdomen. A punch and a kick to his gut, settled uneasy and nauseating. Arthur deserved more than love if there ever was such a thing. Deserved to have every feather from his belt. Had earned them a thousand times over.

Arthur turned to look at him then, locking eyes with the dark irises of the man. The sun piercing his own blue eyes, bleeding in with ribbons of green, a quiet, subdued wave of gold surrounding his pupil. 

Arthur smiled, warm and genuine. Sated. Staring right back at brown hues. So dark and mysterious, yet welcoming. 

He could see the sun in his eyes. See his future. _Home_. Felt at home as he stared into them, the sun catching and brightening his face, warming their skin and their hearts. 

“Beautiful”

A rumble. A thunderstorm of emotions in just one word.

Arthur bites at his bottom lip, his cheeks heating and reddending. He ducks his head to hide his eyes under the brim of his hat. Only then realizing it lay with his saddle. Oh how he longed to have that shadow cast back down over his face. To hide him from his embarrassments. Hide him from Charles all knowing smile at his reaction. Toothy and bright and perfect. _So so perfect_.

 _A delicacy_.

He nudged at Charles’ side playfully trying to play off his embarrassment “Thank you” 

“You don’t need to hide from me. Show me you face sweetheart”

Arthur’s cheeks heated up more if that was even possible, turning his head away from the man. “C’mon Charles don’t do that to me” he whined, pathetic and pleading. Charles always seemed to turn him into a blushing virgin no matter what. Always left him trying to crawl away, hide under a rock, overwhelmed by the love and adoration he showed him. Feeling undeserving of such wondrous things. Charles on the other hand, was having none of it. 

He pinned the cowboy to the ground, straddling his hips capturing his arms and planting them above his head. He knew Arthur wouldn’t dare move them once they were there. Had proved that many times over. Wherever Charles puts him, he stays. Takes what he is given and appreciated it. Now is no different. 

He leaned down, sealing their love with a passionate kiss. Curious hands reaching down to his sides 

“Be good for me Arthur. I know you can” 

He nodded eagerly, awaiting his reward for being good. Instead of the desperate touches and pleasure he was preparing for. All he received was blunt fingers jabbing his side, squeezing and tickling. 

He let out a yelp, grabbing at the man’s hands “Hey wait!” he squirmed and pushed, wriggling out of his grasp, leaving Charles to catch up with him as he ran through the Sweetgrass, Wild Rye tickling his arms as he brushed through them, laughing loudly, escaping his onslaught. 

Hearing the rustle of the wheat fields calling their names. 

Charles gave in to the chase. Running after him, a wide grin plastered onto his face. Long black velvet hair flowing with the freedom of the wind as they raced. Bounding and leaping through the prairie.

 

_We were wild dogs_

 

Arthur tripped, the tall grass curling and grabbing him like vines, pulling him back down to earth in a heap, flailing and laughing all the way down. Charles landed on top of him, tackled him. Keeping him pinned and grounded between his thick muscular thighs. 

They giggled together like children, playfully pushing at each other. Pushing led to quick kisses, rolling in the dirt and grass, not caring how dirty they got. 

 

_Wild dogs_

 

Their time was filled with laughs and sweet, _oh so sweet_ , kisses only meant for the two lovers. Unruly hair and soothing touches, warm hands and bright smiles. They lay together in the grass, hand in hand.

 _Listening and feeling_.

Listening to the sparrows calling to one another, the occasional trill of a prairie warbler, the swaying and brushing of rye on wheat, wind swaying the delicate leaves of nearby trees. The feeling of dry grass on their skin, the last of the sun leaving their cheeks sunburnt before it sets. 

They stand, walking towards a clearing of much shorter grass, fingers intertwined, weaved together. Dark and light. A beautiful contrast.

They sit in the green luscious grass, looking out at the endless field, bathing in the pink cotton candy hue of the sunset. Gleaming and sparkling. Red rose and dainty tulips painting the sky. Blending like a watercolour with oranges, bleeding into a royal purple only suit for a king. 

The scene before them was breathtaking. A sacred thing. As pure and magnificent as the two outlaws soaking up the display in the last light of day. Watching as the sun slowly, disappeared beyond the horizon, swallowed up by the distant mountains. 

Charles disappeared for a moment back to their horses, returning with a bottle of whiskey. The bottle was passed between the two. Heat pooling in their bellies and spreading out through their arms and legs. Buzzing their minds and burning their throats. 

The night air was cool and fresh, carrying with it the smell of woods, sage, and dirt. It was peaceful and quiet save for the soft words and laughter shared between the two lovers. 

The whiskey loosening up their tongues and easing away the tension to be on lookout for danger. They relaxed, allowed themselves to enjoy a moment of joy. 

A band of Coyotes joined the night owls in a song, yipping and hollering away into the night. The lullaby of the desert, a lonely, longing sound. 

Arthur smiled as the sweet music reached his ears, looking up at Charles, pupils blown wide, a goofy grin hanging from his lips. 

They began to bay and howl at the moon along with them, echoing out in the valley they rest in. Laughter filling their air after, elbows nudging and whiskey sloshing from the bottle. 

_A pair of fools_.

The howling stopped, their song interrupted by the drunken idiots. The two men shared a few more sips of that burning liquid, feeling hazy and tired after a hard day. 

They laid down and listen to the silence of the stars, watched the clouds pass by oh so slowly, in no hurry to be anywhere. Charles lay on his back, Arthur’s head pillowed on his broad chest, fingers splayed out, inching under the buttons of his blue speckled shirt, clinging to the warmth radiating from the skin underneath. 

With the sound of the world around them and Charles strong heartbeat in the cowboy’s ear, they dozed off. Sharing soft snores and puffs of breath.

A few hours later Charles woke first, peering up at the halo in the sky, surrounded by gleaming stars and galaxies far beyond their reach. His hand came to rest in tangled blonde locks, carding through them gently, working out the knots. He could hear the low, sedated breathing of the man on top of him, still sleeping away contently. 

He carefully pushed hair from his forehead, stirring Arthur from his light slumber. He looked up, heart hammering away at the sight of waking up with Charles, hair sticking up and ruffled from the days previous activities.

“We should get going cowboy. Don’t want to worry anyone with being gone too long”

Arthur groaned unapprovingly, reluctantly sitting up, wiping a bit of drool from the corner of his mouth, praying Charles hadn’t noticed and that he didn't get any on his shirt. He had enough embarrassment for the day without that happening.

He stood, offering his hand out to him. Charles took his hand and got up, pulling Arthur into a tender kiss. 

Arthur pressed into him, eyes fluttering closed. He wrapped his arms around wide shoulders, tasting smoke and whiskey. A taste he wasn't used to on Charles but one he definitely wouldn't complain about if he were to get another taste. 

Charles slowly licked into his mouth, humming pleasantly at the whine it earned him.

He pulled back, albeit reluctantly, walking them back to the flat rock that housed their saddles and buffalo hide. They whistled for their horses, watching as they pranced over happily towards them, whinnying and knickering.

They saddled up and strapped down the hide to Arthur’s mare before he mounted up, placing his hat back where it belonged, tilted forward just slightly how he liked.

They mounted up and leaned in, sharing one more kiss. 

One for the road

Charles reached over, grabbing his hand again once he was seated in Taima's saddle.

They rode home towards the moon, side by side as they should be, a slow canter down to a main road. Both mares happily walking astride each other.

Concluding a successful day of hunting.


End file.
